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A Thief's Two Shadows
'A Thief's Two Shadows' is a story written by Toa Pozico, giving details on Jeruu's origins, and is the first story set in the Universe ''Unalryk Enkari. It is no longer considered part of Toa Pozico's storyline. Story Chapter 1 The Onu-Matoran Archivist sat in his office, waiting. He had been sent a message earlier that day that he was to examine an artifact that had been found that very day. This was often his job, as he was an expert at determining an object's worth, whether by reading about its history, or, should it be harder to recognize, a series of tests checking for types of rare minerals and traces of Elemental Power. His name was Jeruu. He had worked in the Archives for nearly all of his life, sorting objects, dissecting Rahi, until finally, several years ago, he was given the relatively high rank of Chief Artifact Examiner that he still occupied today. There were other Matoran who also examined objects found by workers in the city of Metru Nui above, but Jeruu was usually sent the objects which seemed more valuable or bizarre. There was a knock on the door. "Come in," said Jeruu. A guard stepped into the room, carrying a small wooden box. A slight frown creased Jeruu's Kanohi Pakari for a moment. Guards weren't usually sent for something as simple as delivering an artifact. It was usually a trainee Archivist who did that. The guard stepped towards his desk, placing the wooden box upon it. "I'm to wait outside until you've finished," he said, looking rather annoyed, "how long will this take?" Jeruu felt confused. Since when did he need a guard at his door? "It shouldn't be too long," he told the other Matoran, "although it really depends on what I've got to examine." The guard sighed, and stepped out of the room. Jeruu had seen many objects of great value or power. Weapons of great Toa, lost when their owner fell to some dark foe, found again by Matoran farmers. Rare Kanohi masks, dented and rusted over the years, but still worth a small fortune. But never before had a guard been sent to protect Jeruu as he worked. There must be something of the likes he had never seen before in this small, dusty, wooden box. Jeruu felt excited, sure he was about to see something more magnificent than ever before. His hand trembled slightly as he reached towards the lid of the box. He opened it, and peered inside. What he saw, sitting at the bottom of the dusty wooden box, was a small, black torch. There was nothing unusual, let alone special about it. He felt as though he had been let down. Was this some silly joke, thought of by his colleagues, or was there something about this torch that was not apparent at first sight? He began performing the basic tests, weighing the object, checking for damage that could indicate if the object had seen conflict. After seeing nothing extraordinary, he moved on to more complicated things, such as checking what materials the object was made of. Here he was surprised. He had never, in all his years, failed to recognize the substance of which the artifact was made. But, oddly, with this torch, he simply had no idea what it could be made of. It felt like metal, but did not feel cold, and it did not seem to shine as metal usually did. Now Jeruu began to feel excited again. Although he was slightly disappointed that he could still not identify the object's material, he now knew that there was something bizarre about it. When he checked for Elemental Powers, he found that there was something there, but his many tools and instruments could not seem to decide what it was. He next looked for historical references in his many books about ancient artifacts and long gone buildings, pulling the leather bound volumes, one after another, off his shelf. Not a single one mentioned a mysterious black torch. He finally came to his very last book, and sighed. He felt that he would find a mention of the torch in there. This book was probably the oddest in his collection. It was called The Mysteries of Relics from Ages Past, written by a half insane Matoran archaeologist many years ago. It was a pointless book, full of far-fetched stories and ridiculous rumours, and Jeruu had been tempted for some time now to throw it away, never having found a single useful fact inside. But he could not help having a look for some mention of the torch, however ludicrous it might be. After all, this torch was bizarre, so maybe the book's writer had found some real information about it, being able to believe so many insane rumours. Jeruu picked up the book, and began skimming through the pages. At last, he found what he was looking for. At the top of a page, there was a rough sketch of a torch, exactly like the one he had been examining. He began to read the text underneath the image. Of the many wondrous artifacts in our world, there is none so mysterious as the Black Torch, also known as the Torch of Truth, as it is rumored to reveal the true identy of whatever its light shines upon. The Torch has been unearthed several times by Matoran, but it usually vanishes within hours of its discovery. There have been sightings of a shadow following the Torch, which, according to the legend, will attempt to join with the torch and possess it, creating a being of terrible power. Several Matoran have also reported seeing a huge, monstrous Rahi, near the time when the Torch was found. Jeruu stopped reading, and sighed again. Just the usual rubbish. But there was something odd. If none of this was true about the "Black Torch", why had there been a guard, sent to protect Jeruu while he worked. Was it to protect the Torch, or for another reason. Jeruu had known for some time that the Head Archivist was becoming greedy and secretive. He had already started keeping the most valuable objects in his private study, and had increased security tenfold. Payment was now needed to visit the Archives, and there had been a group of Matoran sent to visit other Matoran's dwellings, and convince them to "donate" their treasures to the Archives. Jeruu wondered if the guard outside his door was to stop him from escaping with the Torch, although he could not see why he would do such a thing. He decided that he would tell the guard that he wanted to speak to the Head Archivist, and he could tell him what the book had said. He knew nobody would believe him, but he thought he should mention it anyways. He opened his door and stepped into the hallway, carrying the Torch in one hand. At first, he could not see the guard anywhere. He stepped forward, stumbled over something lying on the ground. The guards body lay there, unmistakably dead, with a look of terror on his Kanohi. And, when Jeruu looked up, he saw a shadow, with no source, flickering on the wall. Chapter 2 Jeruu ran, blinded by panic. He ran through the halls, up towards the City above, faster than he had ever run before. He didn't stop until he finally emerged into the streets, panting, blinded by the sunlight. After several minutes of spluttering and coughing, Jeruu began to regain some of his senses. Had he imagined that shadow? But the guard had definitely been dead, and what else could of killed him? He ought to return to the Archives at once and explain what he had found. But the Head Archivist would probably have him imprisoned for murder. And this torch. The shadow had not been there by coincidence. It was following the torch. He could think of only one thing to do. He must leave the Archives, perhaps even Metru Nui. He had no life here, with a greedy boss who probably suspected him of murder. He had in fact been thinking of leaving for some time now. He could work as a farmer, or something of the sort, in a smaller, quieter village. Well, if he would be leaving, he should be quick, before someone was sent after him. He began to walk. ---- An hour or two had past, and Jeruu had travelled a couple Kio. He was beginning to worry. There were Vahki about, with their newer, upgraded armor that he himself had helped design. They did not seem interested in him, but all the same… There was an armor shop up ahead. These were uncommon except for in Ta-Metru, and any outside of the Fire domain were quite expensive. But Jeruu had his money bag with him, and his job did earn him rather a lot of Widgets. He decided that he should see what there was for him to buy. A disguise would be useful. "New armor?" asked the shop owner, a grumpy looking Ta-Matoran with a deep voice, "but yours looks in excellent condition." "I... I just want a new look," lied Jeruu. "I've got a Mahiki, if you'd like," said the Matoran, "but I'll be wanting twenty Widgets. And your Pakari," he added as an afterthought. "Fair enough," replied Jeruu, "and some new armor?" Jeruu left the shop, now bearing a Mahiki, clad in green and black armor plates. He could hardly even recognize his own hands. He recommenced his long, tiring journey. He slept in a small inn that night. Nobody there bothered him, and he did likewise. In the morning, he payed, and ventured outside once more. The streets had changed since the previous day. Tension filled the air. Matoran were talking quietly, almost fearfully. Jeruu saw several Matoran gathered around something that had been pinned up on a wall. When he went to investigate, his worst fears were confirmed. He stared the face on the poster. His own eyes stared back at him, from behind the Pakari he had worn less than a day previously. It read: Wanted for theft and murder. This Matoran, by the name of Jeruu, fled his post at the Archives yesterday after killing a guard and stealing a valuable artifact. Please inform the Vahki if you have any knowledge about his whereabouts. Any Matoran with information leading to the capture of Jeruu will be rewarded with ten thousand Widgets. "This is it," he thought."They're after me. There's no going back." And he began to walk once more. ---- The Vahki seemed more active than usual. They were out in the streets in greater numbers, or perhaps it was simply the fact that they were in the midst of the crowds today, instead of watching from the sidelines. None of them had payed any Jeruu. They walked back and forth, looking through the crowds. Jeruu was careful not to try to avoid them. He didn't want to look suspicious, and anyway, his disguise should fool them. He was careful not to draw attention to himself. He spoke to nobody, and simply walked through the swarms of Matoran intent on nothing but their daily business. It wasn’t only the Vahki that Jeruu was worried about. After the Matoran had rebuilt the City of Metru Nui, many bounty hunters had come to live on the island. Jeruu did not know of any, but he had heard that they were worse than ten Vahki, and he knew that the Chief Archivist would be in a good position to recruit them to hunt down anyone who threatened to tarnish his reputation. Jeruu made it until midday without running into trouble. He had been walking, his legs aching with exhaustion, when he ran into a crowd of Matoran, who were jostling about, but not continuing down the road. Jeruu shoved his way to the front of the group, and saw that the way had been blocked by several small fences. There were Vahki standing along it at intervals of a few Bio, and a Fe-Matoran, armed with a large Rifle, probably made in Xia, pacing up and down the barrier, his small eyes scanning the the crowd. One of the Vahki spoke to the Matoran, who Jeruu had guessed to be a bounty hunter of some sort. “We are ready to begin the curfew,” spoke the robot in a slow, metallic voice. “Good,” replied the Matoran, “you will need to patrol the streets. Arrest anyone who moves outside. We’ll find him.” “Yes, General Feruse.” Chapter 3 Jeruu quickly found the closest inn, hoping to avoid the Vahki during the night. But, to his dismay, he found it closed. A sign was posted over the locked door: "By order of the Vahki. This inn is to be closed during night hours. This is a necessary measure, due to the presence in this area of a highly dangerous criminal." Jeruu felt his insides bubble with anger. So he was a "highly dangerous criminal", was he? Enraged by this accusation, Jeruu kicked the door, and it crashed open. Surprised at what he had done, and worried that the noise might attract the Vahki, Jeruu rushed inside. The inn was completely deserted, Jeruu supposed that the innkeeper was at home. Jeruu closed the door carefully, and shoved a chair up against it so it would appear to still be locked. Jeruu climbed the stairs, and found a room to spend the night. He didn’t expect to get any rest that night, but, surprisingly, he drifted off to sleep after only a few minutes. ---- Jeruu woke before the sun had really risen. He peered out of the window. There were no Vahki in sight, but it was still quite dark out, and he didn’t want to be caught outside during the curfew. On the other hand, he didn’t want to be found by the innkeeper, and be reported to the Vahki and arrested, or worse, for breaking and entering. He hurried downstairs, removed the chair blocking the door, which promptly fell open, and ventured cautiously into the sunlight. He began to walk, just as he had the two previous days. He had hardly gone twenty paces, when a voice spoke from behind him. “Hello, sir. What are you doing out here this early?” Jeruu turned to see the Bounty Hunter named Feruse, who he had seen with the Vahki the previous day. He saw the Fe-Matoran’s hands travelling casually towards his back, where his rifle waited. Jeruu hardly stopped to think. He could run, and be shot down. But he couldn’t think of anything else. He did run. Not away from his attacker, but straight at him. For an Onu-Matoran, Feruse had never been very strong. But his kind ‘’did’’ tend to have rather a lot of muscle. He pummeled Feruse with his large fists, striking at least half a dozen times before the other Matoran had time to react. They fought for nearly a whole minute, all thoughts of weapons forgotten, until Jeruu received a powerful shove to his midriff, and stepped back, winded. Feruse raised his rifle. Jeruu leaped forward once more. He did not have enough breath to continue fighting with bare fists. He made as if to strike Feruse, who stepped back, but not far enough to prevent Jeruu from snatching the pistol he held at his waist. Before Feruse had time to react to this unexpected move, Jeruu had raised the gun, and pulled the trigger. There was a loud bang, a cry from Feruse, and faint splattering noises, as drops of blood began to rain down from the wound in the Fe-Matoran’s chest. ---- Jeruu ran, something he had been doing a lot of lately. He felt that if he kept up this new habit, his lungs would soon reach twice their original size. He could hear Vahki in the streets, but none in the alley that was sprinting through. Matoran peered out of their windows to see what all the commotion was about. Jeruu was filled with a sort of, excited terror. It was a bizarre feeling, but it gave him energy, which was what he needed at the moment. He had killed Feruse, or at least severely injured him. He still had the gun in his hand, smoking slightly. He turned a bend in the alley, and found that it ended. He was suddenly blinded by orange light as the sun began to rise. He blinked rapidly, and glanced sideways. He saw a Matoran pointing at him, several screams. He knew that the Vahki would be upon him any second. But then he saw something worse than a Vahki. Worse than a thousand Vahki. A shadow, clearly visible in the bright morning light, moving steadily towards him. He turned, but had barely started moving when something struck him hard in the chest. He felt his muscles slacken, his arms fall limply at his sides as he stumbled, and fell backwards, onto the hard ground. A Vahki was approaching, stepping closer and closer, raising its staff. Jeruu turned his neck with a great effort, to look where the shadow had been. It was gone. No he had only the Vahki to deal with. He could feel his strength coming back, but the Vahki was nearly upon him. Knowing that it would be a waste, but prepared to try it anyways, Jeruu raised the gun that had once belonged to Feruse, and shot the Vahki, squarely in the head. Sparks flew everywhere, and the Vahki shrieked. But Jeruu was already past it. He could see a glint of silver ahead. He had almost reached the coast. If only he could get to the docks, where there were surely boats to bring him to safety. But there were Vahki everywhere. Kanoka disks shot straight past him as he ran. There were Vahki above him, hovering in the air as lookouts. Jeruu couldn’t see any Vahki in the harbor. They seemed to have deserted their posts to pursue him. There were several Matoran ahead, apparently determined to help capture him. Several of them held Kanoka. Jeruu suddenly had an idea. He leapt towards the Matoran, narrowly dodging the disks they threw in defense. He crashed into them, and all of them toppled over. He grabbed a disk out of someone’s hand, quickly read the numerals engraved on it, and threw inwards, towards himself. He instantly felt the sensation of being stretched upwards, violently twisted, than plummeting towards the ground. He was mere Bio away from the docks now. Thanking the Teleport Kanoka with all his heart, he ran forwards towards the boats. He saw a Ga-Matoran who looked like a sailor, and approached her. "Can you bring me to another island?" he asked, desperately. She frowned, "this is a fishing boat, we generally don’t go inland." Jeruu was starting to panic now, "you don’t even get near other islands?" he panted. The Ga-Matoran was beginning to look suspicious, but her doubts seemed to vanish when Jeruu shoved his entire money bag into her arms. "Take it," he said, "but I need you to bring me somewhere, anywhere." "Alright," she said, "come on, we’re about to leave." Epilogue Several years later… Jeruu stared at his papers, not really seeing them, lost in memories of the past. This was how his story had begun, him looking up from his desk, although he did not sit at that polished table he had owned in his office in the Archives. He was instead sitting at a much smaller wooden stand, next to a tent, enjoying the soft breeze and the sounds of the Rahi in the forest around him. His papers weren't what they had been before, either. Instead of the neat letters requesting that he study newly found artifacts, there were messy scripts in his own handwriting, depicting epic battle scenes and dramatic arguments. He had been halfway through writing the finale of his new play. That was his job now, writing skits and acts, for his companions, who had many talents, and acted spectacularly in his dramatic pieces. They were the Wonderful Worriless Wanderers. They had been journeying throughout the Matoran Universe for years, entertaining the villagers. They had become very popular, and were always welcome to stay in almost any village, and be supplied with food and shelter free of charge. They were a rather small group. Of course, they could easily acquire more actors. There were many Matoran willing to join the group temporarily to act in one of its plays. But the true group, the founders, consisted of only five members. Jeruu looked around at his companions. There was Kirlum. Good old, dramatic Kirlum, the Ta-Matoran, rehearsing his lines loudly and gesticulating wildly. He had lived on the Northern Continent, as a simple farmer, but had left, and travelled abroad for many years, seeking adventure and glory. After having met Jeruu and the others, he had decided that playing the hero in skits and dramas would do, and settled in with the group as the lead actor. Jeruu chuckled softly as Kirlum attempted a wild leap, swinging an imaginary sword high above his head, tripped over a stump, and fell flat on his Kanohi Miru. A whooshing and clinking noise made Jeruu turn. There was Rakla, the Skakdi, setting up the new tent. She had been a pirate, attacking boats and stealing goods. But when the rest of the crew started killing their victims, Rakla had attempted to fight them, but had been forced to flee. She had joined the Wonderful Worriless Wanderers, hoping to make up for her terrible acts from earlier in her life but providing entertainment. Although she wasn't usually an actress. She helped with the special effects and setup. She had an intimidating air, but was normally rather gentil. Her large muscles, which she had once used to row boats and wield axes, were now only used for chopping firewood, and preparing the stages on which her comrades performed. Jeruu watched her walk over to the group’s cart to get some more supplies out. His eyes fell upon the two other figures in the clearing. Linnol and Caulrix, sitting on a fallen tree, discussing something. Those two had been together longer than any of the rest. Linnol, the Vo-Matoran, had been a slave in Stelt, but had eventually been sold off to fight in an arena. She had seized her first opportunity to escape. She had stabbed the her captors with the sword she had been given, and escaped to the harbor. There, she had met Caulrix, a Steltian soldier who had been exiled for disobeying his superiors. He had brought Linnol with him, and they had eventually met up with the rest of the group. Jeruu sighed. The group was his life now. They had told each other of their pasts, and their grief, of everything. Well, almost everything. The others did not know that Jeruu was still being followed, looking over his shoulder, expecting to see a shadow following him. Characters Matoran *Jeruu *An Onu-Matoran guard - Deceased *The Head Metru Nui Archivist - Mentioned *Feruse *A Ta-Matoran shopkeeper *Several other Matoran *A Ga-Matoran sailor *Kirlum *Linnol Others *Several rebuilt Vahki *Rakla *Caulrix Trivia *It is unclear how Feruse discovered that Jeruu had taken refuge in the closed inn in Chapter 3, seeing as he did not even know what Jeruu now looked like. **It is possible that the Ta-Matoran shopkeeper in Chapter 2 had told Feruse about Jeruu's new set of armor. *In Chapter 3, Jeruu is hit by a Weakness Kanoka, although this is not specified in the story. *Toa Pozico pictured the epilogue before he began planning the rest of the story.